


the sound of shattering glass

by Sasskarian



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, No Shepard without Vakarian, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Shakarian - Freeform, Survivor Guilt, War Era, in which Shepard falls apart after Priority: Tuchanka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasskarian/pseuds/Sasskarian
Summary: Shakarian, post Priority: Tuchanka"Just be there for her, when she comes up for air, Scars. She's gonna need you."--





	

**2186  CE | Normandy SR-2 | en route to Citadel | Reaper War**

***

"Shepard..."

"What part of I don't want to fucking talk are you having trouble comprehending, Garrus?" Shepard glared at him as he crossed his arms and leaned against the door to her cabin. 

"You need to," he said simply. "I cared about Mordin, too. So did everyone on this ship."

Shepard said nothing, but lifted her glass to her lips and took a long sip. “Or you could get out and leave me alone.”

"Okay, Shepard." With a sigh, Garrus pushed himself off the wall, and turned to leave. As his talon stabbed the call button for the elevator, he threw one look over his shoulder at her, frustration pulling his mandibles close to his mouth. 

"Do you think this is what he'd want for you? For you to sit and blame yourself? Because that's not who Mordin Solus was. And this isn't who you are."

His voice got quieter, worry twined in his subvocals.

"That's not the woman I fell in love with."

When the elevator opened and she hadn't said anything still, he stepped into it with a shake of his head. Before the hum of the descent started, he heard a snarl and the sound of shattering glass. 

* * *

"Shepard, if you had a minute, I--"

"Get. _Out_."

Liara stuttered to a halt in the doorway, looking up from the datapad in her hands. The growl was guttural, like nothing she'd ever heard directed at her from Shepard before. She set the pad down on the desk and advanced slowly into the cabin, narrowing her eyes. 

"Shepard?"

"Jesus fucking _Christ_ ," Shepard snarled, swiping angrily at her face. "None of you can take a goddamn hint!" 

The commander paced back and forth, eyes frantically sweeping the cabin from side to side. One hand was fisted in her hair and the room smelled of brandy and blood. Liara noticed that there was a thin rivulet of blood trailing down Shepard's upraised arm and a pile of broken glass near the base of the aquarium. There was a small hole in the glass but someone—probably EDI, given Shepard’s emotional state—had put up a temporary shield to keep the fish from being sucked out.

Liara stared at the disarray and destruction in the cabin: there were two sizeable dents in the bathroom door, a panel hung crooked above the old terminal EDI used to interface with the crew, and, despite the environmental shield, there was a slow trickle of water from the aquarium that puddled on the floor.

She turned her eyes back to Shepard, who hunched her shoulders as she yelled, "I don't want to fucking talk!" 

"Fine," Liara said coolly, crossing her arms. "Don't talk. That isn’t why I came anyway. Chakwas should look at that wound, though. You've let no one see you since you returned from the mission." She raised one slim eyebrow. “EDI said you even threw Garrus out.”

"I'm. Fine." Shepard's voice was sharp enough to cut. Three years ago, Liara might have flinched at the ice in it, but she wasn't the same weak, lost little girl anymore, pining for approval. The Shadow Broker couldn't afford to be weak… and required no one’s approval. 

She went in for the kill.

"Yes," she drawled, "you certainly appear fine. Hiding in your cabin, pacing like a caged varren." Liara took a deliberate sniff. "Drinking. Bleeding. Unwilling to face your crew. That's not the Shepard I know."

"Oh?" Shepard swung her head towards Liara, eyes gleaming dangerously in the dim light. "You're the second person to say that to me today and I have just abo--"

"Yes," Liara continued, talking right over Shepard. "The Shepard I know isn't a coward."

There was a tense moment as Shepard took a step towards her, fist balled and crackling with a biotic corona. Liara thought, briefly, Shepard might actually have struck her; that dangerous light was still in her eyes and it was clear that she wasn’t coherent.

Then Shepard staggered backwards and collapsed on the edge of her bed, head in her hands. The corona faded, but the low, aching note in Shepard’s voice was still there.

"I can't go into that medbay right now," she whispered through her fingers. "He was just in there this morning."

* * *

"Well," Chakwas said quietly, her cool fingers gentle as she removed the last piece of glass from Shepard's arm, "I suppose it isn't as sterile as medbay but if you haven't dropped dead of minor injuries in all this time, I doubt you will now." 

“Yeah,” Shepard agreed miserably, pulling her arm back. “More’s the pity.”

“Commander,” Chakwas began, wrapping Shepard's arm with gauze. “I don’t know what happened down there, but I can guess by the extent of your injuries. Two cracked knuckles, multiple cuts from glass, a concussion, three bruised ribs… and these scratches down your arms.”

Liara closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her temple. _Goddess, I hadn't realized._ Chakwas continued, ignoring the way the Commander flinched.

“Shepard, there are still people here who need you. Don’t check out on us now.”

Liara pulled Karin aside as Shepard tested the thin bandages and winced. 

"Can you give her anything to help her sleep?" she asked. “I’m concerned that she’s going to keep hurting herself.”

"No," Chakwas said. "To be quite frank with you, Liara, I’ve never seen Shepard like this. I’ve seen when she’s lost someone—poor Jenkins, after Eden Prime, for example—but I’ve never seen a reaction from her this… extreme.”

She sighed, glancing at their commander. “I’m afraid that right now, all a sedative would do is trap her in nightmares when she finally does sleep."

"Nightmares?" 

Chakwas nodded. "She's been having them since we left earth. Garrus says there are nights she gets less sleep than he does."

"She needs to talk to someone," Liara murmured, looking at their friend. "Perhaps I should call Thane. She usually listens to him."

"She usually listens to Garrus, too," Chakwas reminded her. "But when I mentioned bringing him here to look after her, she said she'd offload me on some other ship if I did, and he’s down in the armory annoying James and Steve with shuttle calibrations. I gather they've had some sort of fight."

* * *

"Siha, you do not look well."

Shepard opened her eyes and winced as she sat up on the bed; the beginning smile faded as her body reminded her of what she’d so recently put it through.

She hadn't actually accepted the call from Huerta, but she suspected that EDI had fudged the connection. Since removing her shackles, the AI had become remarkably human in behavior, often herding her crew in the directions she thought they needed to go. It didn't seem to matter what the humans happened to think of the process. 

"I'm okay, Thane," she said. She held up one hand like she could touch him through the screen, lowering it when his eyes flicked toward the bandages. "How are you?"

"Shepard," Thane's voice carried a gentle chiding note. "The lie and exhaustion is evident in your voice. And I have had calls from Garrus, EDI and also from Liara, all asking me to speak to you." 

His eyes softened as he looked at her through the screen.

"Tell me what is troubling you, siha. We have always heard one another’s confessions.”

She hesitated, worrying at her lip.

It was so tempting. Thane was right; they had heard confessions from one another many times. He had been her second to last stop on the nightly rounds on the SR-2, before the Reapers came, and they’d whiled away many a long hour with secrets and shame shared. If anyone could understand the pain in her heart, it might be Thane.

"Everyone keeps dying, Thane," she whispered after a moment.

Thane nodded, lacing his fingers together. The gesture was so familiar that Shepard could almost believe they were back in Life Support, with the dry air around them and the smell of tea strong in the room. 

"Siha, that is the nature of war," Thane said calmly, resting his chin on his fingers. "And even if you did not know it back when you were an Executive Officer on the first Normandy, you have been at war for years."

Shepard rose from the bed, unable to sit still; her arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. "Ashley died for me on Virmire. Because she _believed_ in me. She believed stopping one batshit crazy turian would stop this. And… and because I made the decision that one member of my team was worth saving more than the other." 

She shivered.

"I couldn't save Kelly in the Collector Base. I watched her get _liquefied_ in front of me.” She felt the prick of her nails on her skin and shuddered, the desire to claw almost too strong to stop. She could still hear her yeoman's desperate pleas for help, even after there was no chance of saving her.

“Not a full day ago, I had to tell my new ally that I couldn't save his son! Now Mordin's dead, too," she spat, feeling her nails catch on the loose shirt she wore over her bandages as she pulled back. "Who am I to demand all these lives, Thane? These sacrifices?" 

"Siha, look at me." 

He waited until she slowed her pacing before speaking further.

"Siha, I have heard these details from Garrus. And again from Liara. And I have the mission reports you filed to the Admirals courtesy of EDI." Thane smiled, a sympathetic look. "Mordin did not die for you, Shepard. That is guilt speaking, and perhaps not some small ego.” He shifted, hiding a wince as he breathed in. “Mordin died because of duty, which is something you of all people should understand."

When she stood, silent, he smiled. "Siha, you must let go. I know you prefer to be in control-- that is what makes you such an excellent commander. You push yourself to impossible odds to protect those who are yours.

"But you cannot prevent every death. Not all of us-- perhaps even none of us-- are meant to die of old age. And Mordin's death was a good one, as far as such things go. He was getting old, in his own terms. Nearing 40, wracked with guilt over the genophage work he did with STG. He died making his mistake right and giving an entire _race_ hope for the future."

Shepard flinched and turned her face away from him. She could still hear Mordin’s pained cry of _I made a MISTAKE!_ in her head.

"Shepard," Thane murmured, as if he could hear the explosions still going off in her ears. "You cannot prevent every death in a war like this. Not Ashley's, who died to stop Saren. Not Mordin's, from responsibility. And not mine, from this disease. Perhaps not anyone else's on the Normandy, either."

Nausea twisted greasy, burning hooks through her stomach as she resumed pacing; Thane ignored her restlessness and kept speaking, each mild word another blow on her wounds.

"Each and every person you have is a weapon and a tool, and your heart-- so big and so warm, even though you try to hide it-- is going to rebel at this. But you have to _let go_."

"You don't get it, Thane," she said, pulling at her braid, cursing as she caught the lump on her head from being thrown by the Reaper. "His death was my fault."

"Explain," Thane said simply. 

"I made him feel guilty!" She shouted, losing the last of her composure. "All through the Collector ordeal, I grilled him over and _over_ about his work on the genophage, about how the Krogan deserved better, how it was affecting them, how the Salarians were wrong. I did that! Me!"

She choked on a sob and slammed her fist on the desk; Thane didn't blink as the corner of the metal bent downwards from the unconscious biotic power behind her strike. 

"He-- he should be on a beach somewhere running some silly tests on seashells! Retired and warm and ha-- happy! Not dead and buried in some fucking radioactive rubble on a goddamn backwater world like Tuchanka!"

“Siha—“

“I KILLED HIM,” she sobbed. “I killed him. I killed my _friend,_ Thane.”

* * *

Garrus leaned tiredly against the bulkhead outside Shepard's cabin.

Vega and Cortez had gently, but firmly, told him to get out of their collective fringe, and Vega suggested talking to Shepard. There was sympathy in his voice, when he told Garrus that right now, Shepard was pushing him away because of her own pain.

 _“She feels like she deserves whatever pain she’s dealing herself,” James said, staring_ _unseeingly_ _at his workbench_ _. “Losing someone on your team is—it takes something out of you. Can break you.”_

 _Garrus blinked, one hand scratching under his fringe. Vega might not have known about Omega, about Garrus losing his entire team, but he wasn't wrong. He sighed, one talon running across the names scratched into his visor._ Butler. Weaver. Sensat. _Ten names. Ten people who'd left bleeding holes in his heart._

_"Yeah, it can," he agreed softly._

_"Just-- I get that you're annoyed she pushed you away," James said, exhaustion in his voice. "She did the same thing after Mars. Kaidan. Kicked my ass right there on the floor and then left me to stew." The big Marine rested his knuckles against his workbench._

_"I thought maybe she was burning off her own stress. Grilling me about my squad, about Earth. But now I think it was a way of checking on me before she closeted herself up to grieve."_

_Garrus found himself nodding, the pieces clicking together in his mind. In all the years he'd known Shepard, she had always mourned alone. He wasn't used to this level of emotion, but maybe she'd always cut him out before he could have seen it._

_"Just be there for her, when she comes up for air, Scars. She's gonna need you."_

For hours, Garrus had been wondering at her outburst. Shepard and Mordin had been close, in an antagonistic sort of way; he'd walked by the tech lab on the SR-2 to find them arguing enough times to know that much. If he's honest with himself, the genophage was the biggest obstacle to an unstoppable friendship between them.

He might expect an outburst the first time a commander loses someone, but Shepard… Shepard wasn't a green leader with her first loss. Or first failure. He'd been puzzling over it since she'd told him to leave, even understanding her need to keep her people safe.

But with her confession, heard even through the metal door, it made more sense. Maybe it hadn't been so insurmountable after all. Losing a friend was... well.

He'd been there, on Tuchanka, when Mordin had confronted his protégé about the experiments on Krogan females. He'd heard the shock in his voice when Maelon revealed he had not, in fact, been captured. He'd seen many emotions pass over the Salarian's face as they walked through the carnage Maelon had left behind him. 

Garrus still remembered the fight Shepard and Mordin had had over one of the krogan's bodies. 

* * *

_“Dead krogan. Female. Tumors indicate experimentation.” Mordin shut off his omni-tool, and looked down at the body, the muscles near his mouth twitching almost violently. “No restraint marks. Volunteer.”_

_"Sterile Weyrloc female,” he continued, as if unable to help himself, “willing to risk procedure_ _. Hoped for cure.” There was anger in Mordin’s voice now. “Pointless. Pointless waste of life.”_

 _"I didn’t expect_ you _to be disturbed by the sight of a dead krogan,” Shepard said, unable to bite her tongue any further. Garrus was honestly surprised she’d waited so long; it wasn’t the first time the two had disagreed over the genophage._

_"What?” Mordin was shocked, his lower eyelids blinking up rapidly. “Why? Because of genophage work? Irrelevant.” He narrowed his gaze and pointed his finger at her; Garrus wondered if Mordin understood how quickly Shepard could move and how sharp her teeth were._

_“No, causative!” Mordin said, voice skewing higher. “Never experimented on_ live _krogan. Never killed with_ medicine _! Her death not my work, only reaction to it!”_

_At Shepard’s dismissive snort, Mordin spun around, trying to compose himself._

_"Goal was to stabilize population. Never wanted this._ Never. _Can see it logically, but…” He trailed off, unable to stop his hand from brushing over the krogan female’s forehead. “Still unnecessary. Foolish waste of life.”_

_Garrus could see Shepard preparing another caustic remark and shook his head minutely. Her eyebrow quirked, and he nodded towards where the salarian’s hand lingered on the girl’s body. There was such... sorrow in the doctor's body language, even Shepard saw it._

_She sighed and holstered her rifle._

_“I didn’t think you’d had much direct contact with things like this,” Shepard said, striving for neutrality. “Did you come to Tuchanka after dropping your… plague?”_

_Mordin nodded, voice flat. “Yearly recon missions. Water, tissue samples. Ensure no mistakes.” He blinked, looking profoundly tired, and his shoulders tightened, almost defensively. “Superiors offered to carry it on. Refused. Needed to see it in person.”_

_Mordin closed his eyes and took a shaky breath._

_“Need to look. Need to see. Accept it as necessary. See small picture. Remind myself why I run a clinic on Omega.”_

_Shepard nodded, her face showing some grudging respect. She might not like what Mordin did, or the views he held, but she respected that he felt the responsibility to see what his work had wrought. Mordin gently ran his hand over the krogan’s face, not quite touching her skin._

_“Rest, young mother,” he whispered. “Find your gods. Find someplace better.”_

* * *

The door hissed open some time later.

Garrus looked up into Shepard’s face; it was blotchy and red from crying, but her eyes were clearer than they had been a few hours ago.

“Talked to Thane,” she said as a greeting, sliding down the wall beside him. Her skin was damp and warm, so Thane had either lanced her wound enough to remind her of basic self-care, or had goaded her into it.

“I heard,” Garrus replied softly. “I was coming to check on you and… I didn’t want to interrupt.” He took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me.”

“I always want to see you,” Shepard said just as softly. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I love you.”

They were quiet together for a few minutes. It was one thing he loved about Shepard. Garrus never felt pressured to make conversation when they were alone, and their silences were usually comfortable. He ran his talons through her hair, hissing in sympathy when he found a new wound.

“Damn Reapers,” he said, striving for nonchalance. “Always throwing us around.”

“Banged us up pretty good,” she agreed, and he knew she wasn’t talking about their bumps and bruises. “So what do we do about them?”

“Get back on our feet. Keep fighting.” Garrus hummed as she shifted closer, pressed her forehead against his neck. “Maybe find a way to use some really big canons I spend half my time adjusting.”

He felt her smile as she nuzzled against his hide.

“We could always find some classy antique stores to fight them in,” she teased, and the sound was so _Shepard_ , Garrus could have cheerfully kissed Thane for helping give her perspective.

Shepard wasn’t weak; he knew that better than anyone. She didn’t have an ounce of quit in her. And he’d be there to the end, with all the breaking and death and destruction, to help her pick up the pieces. But for now...

“So…” he started, gently pulling her up to stand next to him with a smile. “Who’s going to tell Anderson you broke his fish tank?”

"You ass," she half-heartedly slapped at his chest and laughed, before pulling him down for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as a prompt for a Mass Effect theme blog for "letting go." And sometimes, scenes just pop in your head and you don't have a choice but to write them down. I adore Mordin. He has such a fantastic character arc and development, from unrepentant scientist to friend to savior. 
> 
> And I still ugly-cry after Priority: Tuchanka with every playthrough.
> 
> Thank you for taking this feels trip with me and feel free to comment with suggestions or prompts! :D


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